


Romeo & Juliet

by GhostGarrison



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Dog Walker, Dogs, Fluff, M/M, Professor!Cas, Stanford, student!Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-22 02:45:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1573247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostGarrison/pseuds/GhostGarrison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam loves his dog walking job—it pays well and he gets to play with dogs all the time. He's pretty set in his weekly schedule until he sees an email from a man named Castiel Novak, asking for Sam to walk his two Golden Retrievers. [written for LadyLucifer's prompt]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Romeo & Juliet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladylucifer (Nova_8)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nova_8/gifts).



Sam’s gotta admit, he’s got a pretty sweet gig going.

Six days a week, Sam walks various dogs within a three mile radius of campus—for a wide array of clientele, varying from old couples to single parents to large families to rich students.

It pays pretty well—but he likes to keep his rates reasonable for business—and it’s a hell of a better job than something like waiting tables at a restaurant downtown or being someone’s paper pusher in an office building. Sam’s been there, done that, and they were absolutely stifling.

He’s been in the dog walking business for a couple of years now, ever since he came to Stanford on a full-ride scholarship, and he’s gained quite a reputation among the community for his hard work and hopefully charming personality. He’s had the same handful of clients for nearly the entire time, so this week’s new addition is throwing a little bit of a curveball into his usual routine. 

It’s normal for clients to refer him to others, as long as its up to his discretion to take the job or not. “Castiel Novak” lives in an expensive high-rise apartment building one block beyond Sam’s usual territory, but he accepts the job almost immediately when he reads “two Golden Retrievers” in the formal but brief email.

Sam recognizes the name from somewhere and with a little searching on Google, he discovers that Castiel Novak is actually a “Doctor Castiel Novak,” professor of Philosophy and Religious Studies at Stanford. Sam thinks for a moment, wondering why a dual professor at a prestigious university wouldn’t be able to afford a house with a yard for these dogs, but he tries not to worry himself over it.

Besides, it’s people like Dr. Novak, with small homes and big dogs, that keep Sam in business.

He’s able to fit a visit to Castiel Novak’s apartment between walking the Mackleson’s eleven year old, half-blind half-deaf Maltese around the block and Sarah Blake’s Great Dane for a two mile jaunt around the nearby park.

The key copy for the apartment is where it said it would be, behind the front desk with the attendant and Sam flashes his ID in order to get it. Castiel lives on the seventh floor, towering over the trees and houses of the suburban neighborhoods surrounding campus.

The dogs are immediately at the door to greet him, tails wagging and smiling with pink tongues out and Sam can’t help but smile back, petting them both on the head and behind their ears before going to find their leashes, also laid out as they agreed.

The apartment is luxuriously big and spacious, but still not enough space for two dogs of this size. It’s also rather empty-looking, with no knickknacks anywhere or picture frames, the only evidence of human inhabitation is the stack of mail in an inbox on the desk and an empty glass in the sink. Maybe Professor Novak has just moved in.

"Romeo," the slightly bigger Retriever with a more red coat of fur has taken to sniff and lick at Sam’s jeans and shoes while he tries to wrangle the other into letting him see its name-tag, even though he’s got a fairly certain guess.

Sam smiles to himself when the neon pink bone-shaped metal reaches his fingers and reads “Juliet.”

He shuffles them out into the hall and then into the elevator and their tails wag excitedly, so hard that Romeo’s whole backside is moving with it and Juliet looks like she doesn’t know how to contain herself. They bolt out of the elevator towards the door, dragging Sam behind as if he were the one on the leash for a walk.

Sam takes them on a familiar route through the surrounding neighborhood, avoiding parks where there could be other dogs. He still doesn’t know how the pair will react to other animals, so he plays it safe on the first day.

They stop every other minute in order to sniff, lick, or attempt to eat various plants, rocks and hydrants. They don’t seem to mind other people taking their walks or jogs, or cars for that matter, which makes Sam’s job infinitely easier. Hell, the Miltons’ greyhound loves to chase cars and it takes all of Sam’s power to keep him from sprinting after one.

They pull at their leashes but not hard enough to escape, just testing the limits and the strength of their walker. Sam watches the two move in curious synchronization and he’s guessing they’re brother and sister with how similar they are, physically and behaviorally. Golden Retrievers is one of his favorite breeds of dog: large, fluffy, energetic and always happy to see you.

That’s probably one of the biggest reasons he decided to take up dog walking as a part-time job, other than it fitting well around his ever-changing schedule. He gets to spend hours a day with lots of dogs of all sizes and shapes and dispositions. Ever since he was a kid, he’s wanted a dog but his living situation with his marine father didn’t allow it. Now he’s a college student and dogs still aren’t allowed in his apartment building, not that he could afford to keep one anyways.

Sam sighs, watching Juliet sniff a dandelion and pulling her back before she eats it. One day he’ll have a dog, but living vicariously through his clients will have to do for now.

The walk is generally successful and he can already tell that Romeo and Juliet have good enough behavior to take a park route next time. Sam can’t wait to see if they like frisbees and playing fetch, but he won’t try that for another few weeks when he knows they won’t run away if he lets them off their leashes.

Sam unclips them in the hall of the apartment building and opens the door, letting them rush in while he unties his dirty sneakers. He’ll return their leashes to the counter and make sure their water bowls are filled before leaving.

He doesn’t remember leaving the kitchen light on when he left but when he turns the corner, there’s a man standing at the sink, drinking from a crystal glass and gazing out of the window. It’s Professor Novak, he can recognize him from the pictures online and perhaps passing him a few times on campus.

"Sorry," Sam says from the doorway between the kitchen and the hall. "I didn’t know you’d be home."

Romeo and Juliet rush up to him, eager to be petted and lick the hands of their owner. The man turns and reaches down slightly to give them both an equal scratch behind their ears before turning to face Sam.

"It was unexpected," Professor Novak replies, grumbly. "My building had a fire alarm, so I sent my students home with a work packet instead."

It’s more of an explanation than Sam was expecting from the man, but he’ll take it.

"Well," Sam says, taking a step back towards the front door. "I was just dropping them off."

"Were they good?" Castiel asks, returning his empty glass to the sink without breaking eye contact.

"They were great," Sam replies, turning to go put his shoes on. He crouches in front of the door to pull on his worn sneakers. "They’re very well trained."

Castiel has come to lean on the wall of the hallway, arms crossed as he watches the dog walker get ready to leave.

"They’re not mine," Castiel says out of nowhere as Sam begins to tie his shoes on the doormat. He looks up from his laces, meeting the piercing blue eyes of the professor. "The dogs, I mean."

"Oh?" Sam asks, tying one shoe and then the other before standing up straight.

"No, they’re my sister’s," Castiel pauses, frowning with a look of hurt in his eyes. "Were my sister’s. I guess they’re mine now, for the time being. At least until I can find new homes—”

"You should keep them," Sam interjects inexplicably. He immediately knows he shouldn’t have, it’s not really his business. "I mean, if you want."

The professor looks him over carefully, contemplating something as he leans against the front door’s frame. “Is this coming from the man who is paid to walk them?”

"Yes, and no, I guess." Sam shrugs, the professor had a point. "They like you, I can tell. They just need a little more attention."

"I’ll keep that in mind," Castiel says, more to himself as he reaches down to pet Juliet who has come to stand dutifully at his side. Romeo stands a little behind them, watching from the kitchen. "Thank you, Sam."

"No problem," he returns just before closing the door behind him.

A few weeks later, Professor Nov— _Castiel_ , as he’s been reminded to call him several times now, is home by the time Sam comes back with the dogs. It’s been raining all day and for some godforsaken reason, Romeo and Juliet have a penchant to run through puddles and get themselves as wet as possible.

Sam expected as much, so he laid out a few ratty towels that he found underneath Castiel’s laundry room sink beside the door in preparation. He tries to get the two to stay put on the towels as he dries them off, paw by paw. It works, more or less, but they seem to be excited to go elsewhere.

Soft footsteps alert Sam that Castiel approaches, stripped of his usual trenchcoat but his hair is still wet and messed up from the rain and wind. He must walk to and from campus.

"Why don’t you stay for a drink?" Castiel asks, reaching down to take the wet muddied rags from him. Sam looks between his soaking wet shoes leaving puddles on the doormat and the warm dry environment of the apartment and doesn’t think twice in following the man to the kitchen. "Is wine okay?"

"Sure."


End file.
